Written In Blood
by EternityIsNow
Summary: In the First Era a family accepts a gift that will put the fate of the sun in jeopardy. Years of distrust and hatred rip apart the parents, and through them, their only child: Serana. This is the untold story of the fall of the Volkihar Vampires.
1. Reflection

**Full Summary: In the First Era a family accepts a gift that will put the fate of the sun in jeopardy. Years of distrust and hatred rip apart the parents, and through them, their only child: Serana. This is the untold story of the fall of the Volkihar Vampires.**

_A/N: If this story looks familiar to you… it probably should. I uploaded this a LONG time ago under a different title, but it was pretty trashy. This is it being revised after a couple years more experience is under my belt. So enjoy this adventure!_

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_~Written in Blood~  
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I bent down, caressing the petals of the bright pink and white blossom. The tender leaves bent and swayed as soft hands brushed against them. The mountain flowers were perfect this year, as they had been every year as far back as I could remember. I leaned in, inhaling their scent: sweet, like honey; and yet wild, the very personification of nature.

The smell took my mind far away from the castle and its island. I wandered to the plains of central Skyrim, outside of Whiterun, where I was sure the mountain flowers, true mountain flowers, bloomed, as my books had always mentioned. I became Nature, flowing wherever I desired, no chains holding me back, no restrictions. I longed for that life which I felt that I never deserved, yet I was made for.

"Serana, dear, you should not be out this late in the day. Your blood will boil you alive!" The worrisome voice brought me out of my longings. Looking over my shoulder, I found my mother standing upon the balcony, beckoning me back inside the castle hurriedly.

I let the flower fall. Its stem swayed from its sudden burden. Scaling the steps, I could not help but take one more gaze behind me. I glanced around the courtyard, watching it bathe in the bright summer sun. Nature was more beautiful in the daytime, I was sure of it. At night it seemed to, along with everyone else, slumber. "I know, mother, but I couldn't help it. The castle is so _dark_," I answered, finally turning to her as I spoke.

She paused in the threshold of the door, turning her body to face me directly. "I know it is hard for you to accept, Serana, but you are a vampire. You were made to be in the dark." Her voice held no emotion as she spoke. It was as if she was merely stating a fact, rather than attempting to console her daughter.

"If you wished to be in the sunlight, you should not have accepted the gift," she answered passively, turning to continue into the castle. I followed, slightly hurt by her words. It was not as if I ever had a choice in the matter.

As a gatekeeper closed the heavy, wooden double-doors behind us, darkness enveloped me. The only thing warding off complete blackness was the large chandelier in the dining hall below us.

Mother stopped at the balcony overlooking the hall, her gaze ever haughty as she took in the bloody view that welcomed the unfortunate visitors to Volkihar Castle. Coming along side of her, my gaze was solely fixed on Mother's eyes. The intense red orbs held a sense of annoyance, but I was determined to not let that deter me.

"How could I not accept the gift?" I asked, breaking the intense silence. The question had many meanings, and we both knew it.

Her face grew stern, losing its graceful beauty. As her gaze met mine, her eyes alighted in anger, the red hues growing as a resentful ember. "No one forced you" was all she answered.

_No one forced you_. The words, however false, cut through my emotional barrier, barreling straight into my silenced heart. _No one forced me?_ The question echoed through my being, slowly filling it with seething anger. _If no one forced me, I would never have made the choices I did_.

Despite the thoughts forming in my mind, the decades of lecture on grace forbid me from reacting. So instead, I merely stormed past her into the maze of hallways surrounding us. The castle was large, which was a blessing as well as a curse. It could make you feel like the ruler of the world, yet it could also make you feel completely alone. At times like these, however, feeling alone sounded fantastic. I could retreat to the farthest room of the castle, retreat to my own thoughts… retreat to solitude.

Rooms, chambers, and studies darted past me at an alarming rate. I needed to get as far as possible from the problems I faced. While that would do nothing to take them away, it certainly seemed to help me temporarily escape them.

As I stumbled past another faceless doorway, I caught sight of something that made me freeze mid-step. It was my own reflection. Finding that fact strange, considering only enchanted mirrors could pierce the veil of darkness surrounding us, my interest got the better of me. As I entered the abandoned room, I retraced my line of sight to find the culprit: a small pool of water on the floor in the room. I tilted my head in interest, and couldn't help but smile as my reflection did the same.

"Kynareth, you truly knew what you were doing. Nature can pierce any darkness, can't it?" I asked, shaking my head in amazement.

I stood above the water for some time, admiring the rare sight of my own reflection. I had not seen myself for _years_ at the least, yet not much had changed in my past hundred years as a vampire, much to my indifference. I still appeared as a young adult, despite my age being much older than all mortal Nords. My hair had not dimmed from its vibrant ebony black, and my eyes were still as red as blood.

_As red as blood._ The words tasted bitter at the moment. My mind recalled their former color: bright green, just as the grass growing on the western fields, or as vibrant as the leaves on the new spring trees. A strange, small part of me wished to see them green once more, just for a moment, just to know they were still inside me—someplace. Just to know they hadn't been snuffed out.

Shaking the fruitless thoughts from my mind, I tore myself away from the pool. The thoughts I had just had making me ever more determined to reach my final destination in the bowels of the castle.

Choosing my turns, I ventured into an abandoned level of the structure. With the way memorized from years of routinely walking this very path, I arrived in a matter of seconds. I knew my current location to be a reading room of sorts, or at least used to be. Benches and chairs were scattered around the room, accompanied by tables with various books and papers. Lights stained the walls, leaving rays scattered, looking like a piece of abstract art.

The walls were lined with books and scrolls, yet I knew this could be no library: for the books were far too specific. They were not atlases or spell tomes. They were not recipes or histories. Each and every book in the room was a masterpiece, crafted with love, care, and much dedication.

Every book was a fictional novel.

And those hundred years ago, I had found this room in one of my first adventures. At the very moment, I told myself I would read them all, and done so I had. Or at least I was very close. Story after story I had taken from those pages. I lived out numerous lives and went on countless adventures. But in times like these, where my own life was just too much, living out a fantasy was all I asked for.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I brightened as I plopped onto my own, rather dusty chair and opened the book from the nearest table.

Nothing could get to me, here.

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_~Written in Blood~  
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_A/N: And thus begins the story of Serana! I'll post the next (rather longer) chapter sometime in the next 48 hours. I hope you all have a fantastical day!_


	2. Nothing, Yet Everything

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_~Written in Blood~  
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The pages of that book took me far away from the musty reading room. In fact, it took me away from my very identity. In that book, I was no longer Serana. I was Voernet, sailing the high seas to the far-off island of Artaeum. My goal? To meet with the Psijic Order's Ritemaster. I could imagine—no, it was beyond imagine—I could _feel_ the dangers of the seas, the smell of salt in the air, the stormy waters, and above all: the freedom I still longed for.

I suppose I was so entranced by the tale that I never heard the soft, casual footsteps, but I certainly sensed a heartbeat. With a gasp, I slammed down the book and stood up; putting on my 'Lady Serana' air my father had scolded me into keeping around mortals.

My gaze fell directly on the stranger, who merely looked aghast at seeing another being this deep in the castle. "Who are you?" I demanded, eyeing the man before me.

He had coal black hair, just as I, that came down to near his ear. His dark blue eyes shown with the ferocity of a warrior, yet they had a sense of gentleness that I knew could overwhelm the ferocity if he desired. He looked strong, but not built for combat, as his somewhat muscular frame was visible under his clothes. Yet it was the clothes that confounded me: servant's rags. How could a man in his prime be subjected to labor? And for vampires, what's more?

As his shock subsided, it became apparent that he was obviously enjoying my discomfort in this situation, as the corner of his lip upturned into a smirk. The smile was contagious as I found myself smiling at him. It was only seconds later, however, that with a sudden gasp, his countenance suddenly fell. I assumed he realized who I was.

"My name is Layden, Milady." He answered, giving a swift, rather awkward bow. Just as fast as the smile disappeared, he put on his most humble face. "Is there anything I can fetch for you? Would you like me to have the maids draw you a bath before resting? It is rather late—or early—for one of your—er—kind, madam."

His voice was rich and strong. Not deep, however, just—confident.

"No, no, I'm fine, thank you. Layden—could you tell me why you are here? I thought this room was deserted," I asked.

He let out a small laugh, and that smile returned for just a mere moment. "If I had the freedom, Milady, I would ask you the same," he answered. He paused, running his hand down the spines of the books on the nearest shelf before continuing to speak: "This room is why I don't mind being a servant here. I come when I am done with the day's chores and simply read the hours away. I did often wonder why different books were moved, but I eventually pinned it on ghosts, who, I thought, shared the same tastes in books as I," he said as a smirk once more grew on his face.

A smile escaped my restraint as I sat back down on the chair (with more grace this time, I might add). "Well do you care to join me this morning, Layden?" I asked, gesturing to another seat a few paces away.

"If you wouldn't mind entertaining a servant, then I would love to, Milady," he said after demonstrating another of his awkward bows.

He lowered into the chair I had gestured to a few moments before. Casting one last glance in my direction, he let out a soft sigh and relaxed his entire figure, much like I had when first arriving. Afterwards, he simply picked up a novel off of the shelf and turned to a previously marked page, delving into his own fantasy world.

Returning to my own novel, I found myself rather distracted by this stranger. I had only met him literally seconds before, and already he seemed to be completely unfazed by my presence. What manner of man was this? We sat in a moment of silence, the air around us quiet and musty, the only thing splitting it were his heartbeats, our breath, and the soft turning of his pages.

I felt something needed to be said, yet nothing was so important as to say. And so, despite my better judgment, I said nothing at all. We sat, side by side, servant and lady, for hours, after that. He was absorbed into his separate land, and I was absorbed into my thoughts on this stranger.

In the end, I merely kept my book opened and turned the pages every so often, merely to keep the illusion that I was occupied. If you were to ask me, today, I would tell you this one, simple fact:

I didn't read a word after that servant entered the room. I could not tell you how many pages I falsely pronounced finished. But I do remember that somewhere during the hours of high-noon, I did reach for another novel, though my last one was anything but finished.

It was only as dusk approached that I realized something, after hours of my searching: we were no longer, truly, servant and lady, because in that one moment we had changed all of that.

Now we were friends.

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_~Written in Blood~  
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It was not until the early hours of the evening that I bid my new-found companion and good night. As I made my way back through the castle halls, I had a choice to make: would I simply finally retreat to my chambers and rest? Or should I show myself, knowing my absence could cause my already worrisome mother new stress? Knowing which was right, I abandoned all thoughts of rest and was on the hunt for a meal.

As my hands closed around a tankard, I stifled a yawn. Hoping it was not noticed, I quickly filled the container with blood from the nearest cask and found my seat amongst my already-bickering parents. Their conversation kept me awake:

"I tell you, Valerica: this prophecy is different! The end of the sun! Can you imagine the result? We would be limitless!" my father exclaimed, spreading his arms towards the ceiling melodramatically.

Mother glared her annoyance. "Have you considered the repercussions? Once word spread that we were to blame, all of the world would be after us. You cannot tell me that you expect everyone to simply accept the transition? We would have a line all the way to the Marshes of warriors just waiting to kill us. As wonderful as 'no sun' sounds, I have to say I am opposed to the idea."

I quietly sipped the blood, watching the conversation unravel. The idea, as a whole, was rather foolish, this ending the sun. The repercussions would extend far beyond hatred from the world. No sun meant no warmth, which meant no plants, no food, and as an end result, no life. This prophecy would bring about the death of more than just the sun; we would be, essentially, slitting our own throats.

"Opposed?" Father's voice rose, drawing the attention of the whole gathering crowd in the dining hall. "You oppose the ending of the sun, and yet you call yourself a vampire? Do you not see the potential? The power?" he incited.

I called upon all the gods and princes to just swallow me up then and there in fear of the ensuing speech and embarrassment, yet they chose to not show me any mercy.

"We hide in the shadows for fear of the sun's blinding light. We sleep during the day and hunt at night so our blood will not boil us alive. We cower in fear when the castle doors open, letting in a sliver of the scorching brightness. How can we call ourselves the strongest creature on earth when nothing more than light sends us scampering away like some mortal beast? I plan to change everything! I will not rest until an eternal darkness falls upon this land, ending the tyranny of the sun once and for all! Nothing can stop me! I will do anything it takes, mark my words! A new age is dawning upon Skyrim: The Age of Darkness!"

Father spread his arms to the listening crowd, causing a wave of agreement to wash across the room. Mother and I simply stayed seated, continuing to dine. Father could start a new age if he wanted, but the sun would stay. It had to—_right_?

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_~Written in Blood~  
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_A/N: Next update will be in the next 48 hours. Hope you all have a fantastical day! ;)_


	3. Breaking Expectations

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_~Written in Blood~  
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"Might I ask a question, M'Lady?" A voice brought me back to the dark world that I called my reality. Lifting my gaze from the page that contained the scripted streets of Solitude, I met Layden's scrutinizing stare.

Deciding that I would not be returning to that wonderful world in the next few moments, I closed the book and rested it in my lap. Figuring I would at least hear his question, I answered: "About?"

He looked uncomfortable as he also closed his book. "I was passing through the dining hall on my way to the servants' quarters last night and I heard your Father's speech. He is not really trying to actually—you know—"

I chuckled, despite the gravity of the situation. "End the sun?"

He nodded.

Bringing the book that was in my lap to my chest, my mind raced for a good explanation. "I wish I could say he is not. He has this theory that ending the sun will create a new age in which vampires rule. My mother and I are on you mortals' side. Blacking out the sun will destroy all life on this planet, not start a new era," I explained.

He shook his head. "It is madness. What does he think he must do?" He asked. "How does he even know it is possible?"

Many things I knew, but my father's plan was not one of them. I merely shrugged. "A few vampires returned from one of my father's errands with an Elder Scroll some years ago. He has been trying to decipher its text ever since, and is only just now beginning to understand its meaning."

His eyes grew wide. "An Elder Scroll? I was just reading about them! It is rumored that they are from before time, relics from another world. D-did it say anything else?"

"The scroll itself explains what you will need, but my father is far from knowing what," I answered.

A few moments passed in relative silence before Layden began: "Well I hope he never does know. Knowing there is light in this world is what keeps me from going mad, dwelling in this dark place. It gives me hope that over people have it better than I do."

It was as if my own thoughts were put into word right before me. "I often think the same thing myself, Layden."

The more I was around Layden, the more I realized that this Nord was a mortal version of myself. He lived amongst vampires against his will, keeping sane by knowing there is a bright world out there—somewhere; his only ticket into that world being books from an abandoned library deep in the heart of a miskept castle. It seemed that it was more than just a coincidence that we met in this very room the day before. It was bound to happen because we were—

"Why do you not just leave then?" He asked, snapping me out of my comparison.

Leave? Why didn't I just leave? My mind raced for all of the reasons why I would leave, but everything that I thought of left me with one conclusion: I had to stay. The ritual I undertook that century ago kept me in fear of the unknown. The slow, on-going issues with my parents begged me to stay and keep the peace. And even the century of adjustments I made just to get to this point made the idea alone of returning to that state unbearable.

"I could never go back after everything I've been through. You don't understand what I have had to go through just to get where I am," I returned. Pain grew in my eyes as I thought of the events an hundred years before. The ritual, it—I could not even begin to explain it to him.

"I am not trying to pry, M'Lady, but I would if you would tell me," He answered.

I envied his innocence. I could just imagine the silly thoughts that was probably encircling his mind. He had no idea the harsh reality that was my existence. Or maybe—maybe he could understand? This young man had certainly already surprised me. Yet no matter the circumstance, there was no way I was going to tell him everything.

"It would take another hundred years for me to even begin to tell you," I summed up.

He laughed a light, airy laugh. "It is not as if I have anywhere to go, M'Lady."

I smiled, bringing the book back to my lap and staring at the leather cover. There was still no way I was going to tell him everything, but perhaps just a _few_ things wouldn't hurt.

"First of all, please, call me Serana."

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_~Written in Blood~  
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Weeks went by without incident. Every other day we would meet in the library and exchange our stories. Layden always began his with a disclaimer of it being just a "normal day" in his life, and that it was far from exciting, yet what with a century secluded from exactly that, I couldn't help but find myself being entranced by them. Mine own tales were always darker, more gruesome, yet they seemed to put him on the edge of his seat. If only it were possible for us to change lives, I feel as if we would have both been happy.

I rarely saw my parents in these times, only dining with them in order for their suspicion to not grow on where I kept escaping to. From the conversations I heard; however, their already-strained relationship was diminishing fast over this mindless prophecy.

My father continued to believe this mad idea would somehow help the world, and my mother continued to reject his constant pleas to join him. Their tolerance towards each other (as 'love' had ended decades before) was turning into hatred over something that I knew was either dangerous or plain impossible, and all I could do was watch. I felt as if while it was tearing them further apart, it was also tearing me apart from them. I couldn't bear to see them fighting, so I avoided them, preferring to pass the days with my new-found friend.

In those days, I truly felt as if I could finally bear to live in this dark place now that I knew I was not alone. I had accepted this life because I felt as if it was not mine to reject, and he accepted this life because it was his dealt hand, and he was trying to make the best of it. I despised the darkness because it made me feel as dead as I truly was, and he despised the darkness simply because he was made to dwell in the light.

We were the opposite sides of the same coin.

All was quiet until that day. It happened as I sat in the library, enthralled by the beaten pages of a particularly interesting novel. This 'Book of the Dragonborn' was quite an intriguing, if not entertaining, book. A mortal with the soul of a dragon? It hardly sounded plausible. Yet if it was true, I could only hope to meet such a-

My contemplation was cut short by a familiar, yet rushed, feeling flowing over my senses: _ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. _It was a heartbeat I could sense rushing through the hallways. Layden was coming.

I glanced up with a smile, expecting to see his usual smirk meet my gaze. Instead, he wore a frown, looking rather shaken by something.

I quickly closed the black-covered volume and stood, fearing what could cause the ever-calm Nord to be on edge. "Is something wrong?" I asked, somewhat fearing his answer.

His eyes grew dark. "Your mother, word has it she is looking for you-secretly."

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_~Written in Blood~  
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My mother's face was filled with anxiety and apprehension. She stood in the courtyard at early dawn, a time when I would usually be wrapped up in a book or fast asleep. Fearing the news, yet relishing the fact that I was _told_ to venture out during the day, I strode with a fake-confidence towards my mother.

"You called?" I simply asked.

She quickly closed the space between us and clenched my shoulders, gazing at me with a broad smile, one I hadn't seen in over one-hundred years. "We are finally doing it!" She vaguely revealed, still grinning at me.

Her happiness was contagious, but I buried it under my suspicion that what was about to be revealed would be anything but what I wished. So rather, I simply lifted an eyebrow before responding: "What exactly is 'it'?"

She laughed a light-hearted laugh as her joy reached a boiling point. "We are leaving! Running!"

My mind paused as it attempted process what I had just heard. Running? From Father? Is that even possible? My heart filled with both joy and utter despair. Those books: the lighthouse in Solitude, the plains of Whiterun, the rumored assassins in the Pale; could I possibly be able to see them with mine own eyes? Yet I couldn't help but remember the books themselves, and more importantly, the man I shared them with. I was getting everything I ever wished for, yet I was trading it for everything I ever cared about. I had done this once, yet doing it again—it would be my undoing if it was as bad as the first time.

"I—I don't—why?" I stumbled through my words.

She laughed—literally _laughed_. "Why? 'Why should we not' is a better question, m'dear. Your father is dead; he died the day he learned of this foolish prophecy. He has uncovered a book that deciphered the remaining text, and what he relayed to his advisers is not good—to say the least. Ralva, the poor woman, confided in me what your father discovered," she sighed before continuing: "I will not say what it said, dearest, but we cannot stay."

"Where will we go?" I asked, still unsure.

She laughed, more out of pure joy than my disbelief. "A clan of vampires in Dimhollow Cave has agreed to take us in, just until we find a place of our own."

"Dimhollow Cave—isn't that more of a crypt?" I asked, the name once appearing in a tome I had read. Which one, I wasn't sure.

She nodded. "Yes it is. A cursed one, in fact, or so the carefully nursed rumors say. No one in their right mind will dare to venture there. We will be safe. After a time we will find a house of our own, far away from Skyrim itself. We will go to Cyrodil or maybe High Rock; anything to ensure that Harkon does not find us," She plotted.

I nodded, decisively. If she was running, it was for a reason. This was beyond my control. I would follow—at least for the time being.

"When do we leave?" I asked.

She smiled, pulling me into an embrace.

I had never seen her like this. She was always the very personification of proper. She taught me to always shadow my emotions, never show who I really was. Your enemies would take it and turn it against you if you did. Why was she so—I struggled for a word to describe it—giddy, now?

"Are—are you alright, Mother?" I ventured.

Gently pushing me back so she could stare into my eyes, she answered. "Never better, dear, never better. And as for when, we leave now. Do not take anything; it will raise too many questions. Just come, dear."

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_~Written in Blood~  
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The scorching sun beat down as we trudged through the wintery land of the Pale. The light burned not only my blood, but also my eyes as it reflected off of the pure, virgin snow. The only noise accompanying the swishing of our clothes was the wind rushing through the ever-hibernating trees and the singing of the wind-blown birds.

Cautiously darting my eyes from dark crevice to crevice, I couldn't help but feel impending danger. We were escapees, royalty running from our own castle, escaping the evil master of the court. An audible laugh escaped my lips as I recalled reading a similar tale. Snow White-now all I needed was a Prince Charming and seven silly Dwemer.

"Something amusing, Serana?" Mother asked, flashing me a quick smile. She returned her gaze to the snowy surface so she didn't trip as I answered: "Nothing of importance, I just found this whole situation familiar, yet completely different, to a book I once read."

"What book was that?" She asked, sounding genuinely interested.

I smiled, recalling the name. "Snow White and the Seven Dwemer. I found it in an abandoned library soon after we arrived at the castle. It's supposed to be a child's book, but I found it quite the interesting tale."

Mother angled her steps so she neared me. Resting her arm across my shoulders, she inquired: "How does it end?"

I couldn't help but shake my head. "It ends with some nonsense about a dead royal and true love. Nothing I could ever relate to."

She laughed at my deadpan answer. "Who knows, m'dear? All fairytales hold a splinter of truth, truth which often blossoms into reality in the most surprising of ways."

I nodded as I dwelt on her words. I supposed she was referring to—I could not even begin to guess. Was she so twisted as to wish death upon her husband of over one-hundred years? Or could she truly wish that I might one day find a husband of mine own to pass the centuries with? In the end, I realized it wouldn't matter.

Since, at this rate, I probably wouldn't live long enough to find out.

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_~Written in Blood~  
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_A/N: Sorry about the delay, I came down with a nasty set of illnesses all at the same time. But I survived, and I am back! Next update will be sometime this weekend. Have a wonderfully wonderful day!_


	4. Painfully Obvious

"Welcome home, dear," Mother said, gesturing to a dark entrance on the side of a snowy mountain. It was eerie—but nothing I was not used to by this point in my life, given the circumstances.

I bravely (or so I imagined) led the way into the darkness, being glad, for once, of my undead status. The welcoming chamber looked as rundown and dark as I had imagined when first being told my new residence would be a crypt. It was almost pitch black in the majority of the space, but what I could make out was this: the room was oval in shape, with a metal grate leading who-knows-where stationed at the far end. Three stone columns supported the stone roof of the structure, and while it looked natural—it also looked sturdy. A small waterfall poured from a hole in the otherwise-solid ceiling, forming a pool in the center of the room. The ground was covered with snow, doubtlessly blown in the cave from the strong winds outside, but what areas _weren't_ covered were stone, dirt, or mud.

"Home sweet—cave," I mumbled.

Mother chuckled. "This is the cover-up. Ravla told me there is a hidden passage somewhere on the far wall. We had best look."

As I started in the direction of the wall, I could not help but notice a few signs that someone had recently been here. Any skilled tracker—or simply a very keen eye—would know that someone had been in this very cave, and been in it often. A recently dimmed candle stood on a column to my left, it's wax still dripping; an overturned wooden bucket, in perfect condition, floated in the small pond in the center of the room; and a Dragon's Tongue flower (which require a great deal of care if not kept in hot conditions) sprouted from a single beam of light—all plain signs of habitation.

Shaking my head at the carelessness, I glanced down at my feet to avoid falling into the pool. My interest was piqued when I saw what was at my feet. A clear pathway was trod from the entrance of the cave, followed the left wall past the metal grate, and continued to follow the wall around to my right. I could not see where it stopped, but I assumed it probably led to this secret passage.

The trampled snow and dirt led me to a small staircase leading to an elevated platform. A wooden chest, a small wooden table, and a half-melted candle (whose wax was, once more, still dripping) occupied a small room. A large, open window gave a perfect viewing of the cave's entrance.

"A guardhouse" I assumed with a frown. If this was the place Mother had deemed 'safe', I was no long completely sure about this…

I shook the idle thoughts from my mind as my gaze fell to the walls. If I could find simply a crack in the wall, an air-vent, or even—

I let out a laugh at the simplicity of the design. A half-rusted, crude, iron pull-chain hung before me on the wall. The upper end of the chain was imbedded in the stone walls of the cave, obviously being connected to a doorway or gate somewhere near—or maybe a trap. Giving the metal ring at the lower end a slow, hesitant pull, I cautiously glanced around me as I waited for any sign of change.

A low, grinding noise was the only response I got that told me the chain had even worked. I gave a victorious nod once I was sure the noise was not hostile. Descending from the guardhouse, I looked around the cave in order to find Mother and tell her of the recent developments.

I found her down below in the center of the main chamber, near the pool rippling from the tumbling waterfall. As I approached from behind, I took in her stance, trying to decipher her thoughts: she had her left hand on her hip while her right was rested on her chin in thought. Before I even made my presence known, she spoke:

"This just will not do, not at all," she mumbled, turning to face me.

I nodded my understanding. "I agree. The hot wax from the candles, the Dragon's Tongue flower, even the bucket in the pool: all far too obvious. Oh, and do you know what the 'secret entrance' is hidden by, Mother? It's a pull-chain—an ordinary, completely conspicuous _chain_. If Father gets w—" I paused, silenced by Mother's confused stare. I was obviously babbling on and on about something completely unrelated to her thoughts. Fidgeting my fingers nervously, I looked down at the floor before speaking. "You…. Weren't talking about the chain, were you?"

Mother grew a soft smile. "No, I can't say I was. I _do_ agree with your observations, though. What I _was_ thinking of, dear, was the fact that we're only one day's walk from Castle Volkihar. If your father saw what direction we ran, he could be here before nightfall tomorrow. We need—we need a plan of action, Serana." She started pacing the welcoming chamber, her head lowered in thought. "We need to go somewhere your father would never even _think_ to look…"

I paused a moment, not sure where this was going. "What are you saying, Mother?" Where else could she possibly want me to go? Father had a seemingly infinite amount of resources and contacts, if he truly wanted to find us, then I had no doubt he would. _Out-running_ was not going to happen, so now she wanted to _hide_? This was not a child's game of hide-and-seek. Mother kept making it sound as if we were both in mortal peril.

This was survival.

She frowned as her pacing came to an end. "Don't worry, Serana. I _will_ think of a place. For now, we should go and meet our new hosts." She motioned me deeper into the cave, past where the metal grate had once stood at the far end of the room. I supposed that was what the metal chain had accomplished. "Shall we?"

I absent-mindedly nodded and once more led the way into the darkness. I would still follow, at least for the moment. She could lead me around blindly for a while longer, and I would try to pry some more details from her. I was determined to not be a pawn in their little game. I had been once before, but no longer…

"Welcome to Dimhollow, My Ladies. If there is any way we can be of service, you need but ask." A slim, kind woman bowed as she spoke. Her hair was a dark brown, seemingly black if she entered a shadow. I imagined her eyes to be a light, cobalt blue if she were not a vampire, but as it was they were the same as the rest of ours: a deep red, the color of blood.

The rock walls of the cave had gone from a jagged, natural form to a smooth, homely atmosphere quite some paces ago, and, doubtlessly due to some sort of ventilation system, the air had turned a lot clearer and lighter. It felt as if we were back in the halls of the castle instead of deep underground. Despite the lack of décor, it was a very comfortable welcoming area.

Mother inclined her head in response. "Thank you, madam. My name is Valerica, and this is my daughter, Serana. We are very thankful for your kind hospitality."

The woman turned to face me, the fabric of her long, red silk skirt billowing from the movement. "A pleasure, Milady."

I flinched at the expression, but remembered my manners and nodded with a smile. '_It is not as if I have anywhere to go, Milady.' _The laughter-filled words echoed through my mind from four weeks previous. That moment had been the last time I had been called 'Milady' (the rest of the court merely calling me Lady Serana), and it still hurt to know that the odds of my seeing him again were getting slimmer by the minute.

Layden's laugh had been the one thing I had missed above all else the day before. We had set up camp when we could not walk anymore, finally collapsing in the early afternoon. Lying on the grass in a small, dry patch amongst the marshes surrounding Morthal, I watched the sky darken from a bright blue into a deep orange, and finally black. It was the first day that I had not talked with Layden in over two weeks. My only comfort had been gazing at the stars above and watching the moons spin about each other as if practiced partners in a ball-room dance. Although the moons were largest, the brightest stars yellow or white, the heavenly bodies that stood out to me the most were two small, dimming stars. The only two dark blue stars in the sky—the same color as his eyes.

I shook my head from my deep thoughts to see the kind woman gone, and Mother staring at me worriedly. "Are you well, Serana dear?"

I immediately nodded, but I knew my actions deceived me. I could _feel_ the disconcerting air that surrounded me; I had a feeling it would be just as visible.

Contrary to my expectations of being questioned further, Mother just gave me a last, concerned gaze and turned back to the arched path leading out of the foyer.


End file.
